Category: Gulf of Mexico

Letting Go

Letting Go

By |

I realized today that I have been attached to people ‘getting’ the seriousness of the situation at the Gulf. Of understanding that all is NOT well there and the seafood is tainted with oil. I have invested a lot of energy into hoping…praying…that there would be an awakening that would positively affect not only the Gulf Coast, but the entire planet. The more I see attention-deficit mainstream media move on to other adreneline-pumping stories and leave the hard road of environmental and economic recovery of this area behind, the more stressed I become. Why? Because I have been attached to an outcome.

In my attachment, and the resulting anger that collectively people are just not getting it, I was missing the real reason for my monthly visits to the Gulf Coast–to minister to the wildlife and environment by telling the story. When I had that ‘ah-ha’ moment today, it felt like a weight lifted from my shoulders and I relaxed and refocused my attention–my INTENTION.

I let go today. I cannot force anyone to listen, pay attention, stop eating contaminated seafood, stop swimming in contaminated water or to slow down and really observe what is happening on the beaches, under the water, to the plants. By letting go I have more energy to devote to what I feel called to do: Document what I see, hear, smell, taste and feel when I am at the Gulf Coast. By telling the story, those willing to listen will have honest, truthful information.

Before the oil came ashore in Alabama, I made a promise to this Ghost Crab. After warning it to leave the beach and head for safer territory in the dunes, it helped me see that its loss of life could be a teaching–that all lives lost due to this disaster could be a teaching, a reminder, that our greed and misuse of resources is out of control. So in memory of this little teacher, I recommit to telling the story and let go of things and people I have no control over. Feels like a good step.

Science VS Common Sense

Science VS Common Sense

By |

The only thing that calmed me this morning was envisioning a beautiful rose, deep red and full of delightful scent. I imagined the smell and saw it blossoming in my heart. The anger and frustration over BP and the government’s ‘head-in-the-sand’ approach to the oil spill has troubled me greatly and an article I read this morning lit my fuse.

The article was published by the New York Times November 5th. The quote that made me stomp around my kitchen taking deep breaths was this: “The discovery of the dead corals offers the strongest evidence so far that oil from the BP well may have harmed marine life in the deep ocean.” This statement was made by Dr. Charles Fisher of NOAA, the governmental agency that has reopened almost the entire Gulf of Mexico to seafood harvesting. I know, I know…their samples show minimal amounts of dispersants and oil in seafood. But how is it that I can walk on the beach and find dead crabs with blackened lungs (gills)? Of course, I’m not taking them to a lab for testing but they sure look different than the crabs we caught and cooked when I was growing up on the Gulf Coast. In those days the crabs had creamy-white gills. I’m no scientist but unless crabs have taken to cigar smoking, something is amiss. Maybe they are not sampling in the “right” places. And YEAH! they are finally admitting that the oil spill may have harmed marine life in the deep ocean, but really? I mean…is this NEWS to anyone? That they are admitting it…okay, THAT is newsworthy!

I observed Portuguese Man-O-Wars washed up with suspicious-looking grayish-black specks in them. OIL? If not, they have certainly changed their coloring by some miracle of nature. But again, I’m only a woman with a camera and a keen curiosity and love of nature, not a scientist.

And I know the sea gulls and shore birds I’ve observed in the past week have excessive leg and foot injuries and I thought maybe, just maybe, it could be from the oil they walked through this summer. And pardon my leap to suggest a Willet I saw puking on the beach, whose vomit was full of broken pieces of shells and mucus, was suffering from some illness or maybe hunger because there is no food (live shells) for him to eat. Once again, I’m not sampling the vomit or don’t have a way to ask the birds if their foot and leg injuries came from the oil. “Excuse me, when did you start having symptoms of your foot falling off?” But is it such a leap to wonder if the oil is the cause?

I totally understand that we must have hard evidence–scientific evidence–to draw conclusions. I know that hard science proves the connection from the BP Oil gusher to dead marine life. But where is the common sense of scientists? Are they so programmed to believe only what they can prove that they lose their ability to use common sense?

If there is a toxic substance, let’s just say 5 million barrels (55 gallons in a barrel). Added to it was another toxic substance….maybe 2 million gallons of it… that causes toxic substance #1 to be readily absorbed by marine organisms. Mix it all up in salt water and what do YOU think will happen? Without your high school or college biology knowledge, without knowledge of chemistry. WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN? Do you think things that live in this mixture will be negatively affected by it?

It seems as if those of us still concerned about the Gulf–wildlife, plant life, human life–keep hitting walls of bureaucratic reasoning that border on nonsensical. Really NOAA, the oil did NOT disappear magically. You allowed it to be dispersed…it sank and now…oops! It’s still there. And finally…FINALLY…your own scientists think that maybe a reef seven miles southwest of the blown oil well might indeed have been killed by the oil–no, no…the oil may have “harmed marine life.” I am not sure why Jane Lubchenco, NOAA administrator, started supporting the idea that perhaps the oil may have harmed marine life (she was the one that said the majority of the oil was gone) but whatever the reason, at least there IS reason starting to percolate in government scientists.

Please forgive the obvious unrestrained assault on the governmental scientific community. But after listening to EPA and USDA scientists at a meeting in Mobile, Alabama, in June contradict their own statements about whether dispersant use was safe, after knowing the government supported BP’s use of toxic chemicals banned in the UK (dispersant), after watching Jane Lubchenco say the oil was nearly gone (and independent scientists saying NO, it’s not), after finding evidence of oil in crabs and jellyfish, on marine life, seeing oil STILL washing up on the beaches of Alabama (as of Oct 27th), and personally experiencing airborne oil during high winds and surf on the Alabama Gulf Coast….I don’t feel anything but disbelief and frustration that our NOAA government agency is: 1) Stupid enough to believe the rest of us are stupid; or 2) Just really stupid themselves.

Can’t you be a scientist and have common sense?

Steps to staying healthy while visiting the Gulf Coast beaches:
1. Don’t dig in the sand.
2. Don’t wade in water that is bubbling with light-brown froth (this includes swimming)
3. Don’t eat fish, crabs, shrimp, oysters. PLEASE, for your own safety, wait a year or two. I really believe there is danger…I’ve seen it first hand.
4. If there is high wind and surf, blowing from the south, do not go onto the beaches. The oil is airborne. I saw it, I felt it, I rubbed oil off of sea oats the last week of October.
5. Don’t go barefoot on the sand.
6. Don’t trust the local officials as they turned their heads to beach-goers who were swimming in highly contaminated oily waters–I have video and photographs from the summer. The local officials want tourists to think it is safe so they will keep coming to the beaches.

I want my home state and other coastal states to have successful businesses. I want there to be prosperity. But not at the expense of your health, or the health of those you love. Be observant, educate yourself fully, and know the risks.

An Incredible Journey

An Incredible Journey

By |

Two days ago, I was completing my last survey of the beaches for my October trip to the Gulf Coast. As I walked the last half mile of shoreline, I came upon a monarch butterfly laying in the surf–her colors brilliant in contrast to the pale sand.

I stopped to photograph this beautiful expression of nature. Intently watching through the lens, I saw a fuzzy, black leg move. I quickly hung my camera over my shoulder and picked up the fragile traveler. Her wings were saturated with salt water and damaged. I knew she would never fly again, much less make it across the Gulf of Mexico to the wintering area for millions of monarchs.

Cradled in my hand, she rested in the sunlight as I protected her from the breeze. As we walked, I thought of the amazing journey these tiny insects make. No GPS, no maps, no verbal directions. Pure instinct.

Suddenly another monarch flew past, out over open water, to begin the long stretch of her journey with no rest, food, or sleep until she reaches land on the other side of the Gulf. I wished a warm wind to gently help her as she fluttered out of sight.

Then I remembered the oil-laden winds of a few days ago and I cringed. How would the contaminates affect monarchs? I saw and felt what it did to sea oats. Could the fragile wings of these orange marvels cope with a thin coating of oil?

A very slight flutter caused me to refocus on the treasure in my hand. At first, I felt sadness knowing this little adventurous one would never make it to the end of her journey. Then I realized she had completed her journey. She was not attached to making it to monarch mecca. I was attached…for her.

Sometimes we think arriving at a hoped-for destination is the only measure of success. We get so caught up in where we think we ‘should’ be that we forget where we are. True success is being present to realize beauty and recognize blessings around us. My brightly-winged friend worked to the end of her life to follow the instinct calling her onward. That’s all any of us need do to have an incredible journey.

I carried her in my hand to the car, up the highway, and into my mother’s beautiful flowers. There, in the final moments of her life, in this realm, she was nurtured by the love my mother showers on her garden.

October Gulf Coast Summary

October Gulf Coast Summary

By |

The main point I wish to make from my observations here on the Alabama Gulf Coast this past week is this: We must continue to closely observe the wildlife as they are telling the true story of what is happening to the ecosystems here.

On Monday, October 25th, I observed coquina shells in a few small groups near Gulf State Park pier. When I returned on Saturday, October 30th, there were none to be seen.

I observed a willet regurgitate his stomach contents. Upon investigation of the contents of his stomach, there was nothing but pieces of broken shells and mucus. I then saw him eating empty shells in the surf zone. Is he eating shells just to feel full? I observed nothing alive in the surf zone once again. This is a telling part of the ecosystem.

I saw several dead blue crabs again. I opened one up and it had dark grey-black lungs (gills). I saw hundreds sick in the surf zone in August and many, many dead and full of oil on the beach at the wildlife refuge in September.

Tar balls are still very prevalent in the surf zone and this is to be expected for many years to come.

As I reported in my blog from Oct 30th, the gulls are showing evidence of severe foot and leg issues ranging from webbing being eaten away, joint issues, growths on ankles and feet, and legs being withered from the knee down. This is more than one or two birds. They walked in the oil when it washed up on the beach, now they have foot and leg damage. Makes sense to me.

While the water looked much better toward the end of the week, after the high winds and rough seas subsided, there are still dark areas off shore. This one happens to be just offshore from where a very nasty, deep layer of oil washed ashore in Gulf State Park this summer. The theory is that there are sunken patches in shallow water that become stirred up when there is high surf. Thus, the oil became windblown like a few days ago when the entire surface of the sand was light brown and the sea oats had a slick coating of oil particles on them.

What a beautiful day yesterday. The water appeared clear, the sky was beautiful. No oily salt spray was blowing across the beach so I felt a bit more at ease with each inhalation. I understand that people are weary of hearing reports from the Gulf and weary still of ‘bad’ news. Everybody wants to feel good. And let’s face it, hearing more concerns about the environment do not contribute to happy feelings; however, this is not the time to forget or become complacent. And the Gulf is only one part of the global environmental challenge.

In my first video on the spill I said this: You may ask how the Gulf of Mexico oil spill affects you. I say, how does it NOT affect you? That statement still rings true.

No matter where you live, know that many corporations will do whatever they can to turn a profit. They will sacrifice oceans, wildlife, human life…it doesn’t matter. They are only concerned about their bottom line being hefty and black. Educate yourself. Learn what is going on, not only in the Gulf of Mexico, but in your own community.

The only way the world will change is by more people caring and becoming stewards of the earth. Let us walk gently on this beautiful water planet.

Diamonds in the Web

Diamonds in the Web

By |

I sit here in the shade of pine trees at Gator Lake and allow the breeze to cool me after the long hike through the refuge on the sandy trail. I hear the Gulf roaring across the lake as the drone of insects sounds in the surrounding marsh. Haze from salt spray, laden with particles of oil, blurs the tree line and I realize that even here, a half mile from the breaking waves, I am breathing air that carries molecules of benzene, hydrogen sulfide, toluene, xylene, and who knows what else from MC252 oil well.

What will be the long term effect on the marshes, the beaches, and ecosystems? What will be the consequences we cannot see from here but are lurking in the future? What happens to all of the workers who spent twelve hour days in 100 degree heat breathing contaminated air at its worst?

There are so many strands in the web of life, in these fragile ecosystems along the Gulf Coast. So many intricate aspects to such a rich gathering of life force in the Gulf, saltwater marshes, and inland habitats. If only one part of the living system was injured, the stronger parts could support it and nurture it back to health. Unfortunately, every part of this precious place is affected and the confounding thing is we simply have no idea how badly it is injured. Not yet anyway.

Take, for instance, the oil-soaked sea oats. Will the seeds grow after being coated in oil? The primary dune line, where the sea oats grow, is the first defense against storms. If sea oats do not reproduce due to the oily mist saturating them, what will become of the dune line? Not this year, but 3 years from now.

And what about the coquina shells that have been long-gone from many beaches since the spill? They are beginning to come back in some areas but what is the long-term effect of oil on their genetics? Will they be able to reproduce when constantly exposed to toxins found in crude oil? (And yes, the oil is still washing up, it’s still in the Gulf…weathered but present). We don’t know, do we?

There is suspicion that blue fin tuna’s reproduction may not have happened this summer due to the spill. The Gulf is where they migrate to breed. They were already in decline. What happens to them now? So many unanswered questions. So many unknowns. So maddening, this waiting. This prayerful waiting.

I sit here feeling the breeze kiss my sweaty face with all of these questions rumbling through my mind. What will this place look like five years from now? Will nature recover from this inundation of toxins? What species will survive and which ones won’t? I ask again, What will it take for humans to wake up, to remember our intimate connection to nature? To remember that what we do to nature ultimately determines our fate, especially the fate of our grandchildren. Will we, as a species, ever put aside our selfishness and grow into responsible adults?

My grief runs deep but it is not rooted on just the oil spill or the mining disasters all over the world or other human-generated catastrophies and assaults to the planet. The seed of my grief is the apathy and ignorance of one species–and I am a member of it.

Each of us is a diamond in the web of life. Each crab, every stingray, sea turtle, fish, bird, and plant are jewels in this sacred web. When one strand breaks, many suffer. We are diamonds in the web, let us shine with the light of awakening consciousness!